I’ve always had a fascination with houses. 

Big or small. 

Old or new. 

City or country.

Exquisite or plain.

It does not matter.

I am enthralled with them all.

What one might find odd about this fascination is that it always begins on the outside. 

In the dark.

Walking in the dark, I would see the light from people’s windows falling out on to their yards.

I would see some of what adorned the walls inside their homes.

As a child passenger in the car at night I had little to do but watch out the window. 

The houses we passed by were lit from the inside too.

This light showing from those homes speeding by made it possible for my wandering, creative, dreaming, little girl mind to make up my own little stories about how others lived.

The inhabitants inside would never know the dreams of this child.

I often wondered what they would think if they did.

Funny, how they did not even know I was there.

I never wanted to see anything I shouldn’t see, private moments and the like;

So it was not anything creepy, I just enjoyed the small glimpses I got of someone else’s life.

I was an adult before I would find what the attraction was.

It all began when I first encountered an artist named Thomas Kinkade.  

https://www.google.com/search?q=thomas+kinkade&hl=en&rlz=1T4ADRA_enUS423US427&prmd=imvns&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ei=sxPlTvmeLcOAgweIoLn5BQ&ved=0CL8BELAE&biw=1280&bih=685

I sensed something in his pictures that attracted me just like the homes that had attracted my little girl attentions for all these years.

His paintings awoke something in me that was waiting to be explored and understood.

I began to consider this attraction I had, from the first time I had a sense of it.

Since I was small, and no one knew I was dreaming these dreams, since no one knew that

I was making up these stories, I could continue to do it, and be safe.

I was safe from punishment, since I was much in trouble for daydreaming.

I was safe from ridicule, since my every move made someone verbally assault me.  http://wp.me/p1Deai-1h

I was safe from the people that harmed me in my real life.                                            http://wp.me/p1Deai-3E  

I could imagine a life where there was no pain.                                                                http://wp.me/p1Deai-1U                     

I could dream of a life where people loved and protected those in their care.          http://wp.me/p1Deai-1W

In this life of make believe, in this life of story, I was safe, even though my real life was dark.

As a teen ager, I fell into the abyss of believing everything every one said about me, so I became a self fulfilling prophecy.

Only on a very few occasions was I able to escape back to the world of making story from someone else’s light.

As an adult, I married and became a mom. 

I had little time for such foolishness, until …………………

The children were old enough to take on long walks in the city where we lived.

Those long walks with our little family, seemed to re-kindle the flame for seeing light and making up story.

So now, enter Thomas Kinkade.

What did I see in his paintings? 

Why was I drawn to them? 

What was their affect on me?

Then I read somewhere that Thomas Kinkade was known as “The Painter of Light”.

Somewhere, from the beginning of my childhood, I had sensed a kind of darkness. 

It was all around me.  It seemed to cling to me like a garment.

I have learned much about this garment, but that tale is for another time.

What is for this time is this;

In Thomas Kinkade’s paintings, there was always light.

The light was always bright, but the light was also always soft.

Darkness could be all around, but in the softness of that light, there was comfort and safety.

When my eyes beheld the light from these windows in the night,

and I made up my stories about them, there was always safety in the story.

It may have been absent in my life, but I somehow knew, that comfort and safety were somewhere.

When my eyes beheld the light from Thomas Kinkade’s paintings,

there was always safety.  There together, abiding with comfort.

Where did the light come from in both of these scenarios? 

The light came from within.                    Inside.

Matthew 5:16  In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven.

Revelation 18:1b He had great authority, and the earth was illuminated by his splendor.

Colossians 1:27  To them God has chosen to make known among the Gentiles the glorious riches of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.

We must choose to let God’s light shine out from us.

The light that He deposits within us, can light the way for another!

Would you choose to let Him illuminate your insides today?

In the home I share with my husband and one really big dog, you will find a soft light in every room. 

It is a bright light.                                                                                                                                

It is a soft light.

It is a strong light.                                                                      

It is bright enough to light the way.

It is soft enough to bring comfort.

It is strong enough to chase the darkness away.

As you drive by, except for Christmas time when there is a tree there,

In the front window you will see a lighthouse.

Always lit.  

A spot of comfort in the darkness.

A beacon of safety in the night.

Beckoning little girl and boy dreamers to keep dreaming.

Inviting Significant Encounters of the Jesus kind to passers by.

So they can shine light in the darkness as well!

Isaiah 9:2  The people walking in darkness  have seen a great light;

on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned. 

   *